Little Ugly Tree
by justtheonce
Summary: It's a fluffy Bechloe Christmas fic, of course. With extra cheese. M is for copious cursing, this is smut free.


"You're sure you want _that_ one?" Beca asks, eyeing the tree suspiciously.

"Yeah, definitely," Chloe answers softly.

"But it's-" Beca starts, knitting her brows together and pursing her lips as she tries to think of something _not_ snarky to say. She turns to look at Chloe before continuing. "I mean, you see why no one else has picked this one, right?"

Chloe looks at her with an expression that appears to be equal parts 'you're kind of adorable' and 'you're kind of a dumb shit.' "Of course," she says. "That's _why_ I want it."

Beca turns back to examine the tree again. It's shorter than she is by a few inches, its trunk is a bit crooked, and 'full' is not a term she'd use to describe it. "So, you actually _want_ the little ugly tree?"

"It's not ugly," Chloe protests. "It's just not _perfect_." She smiles at the tree and then at Beca. "It's just sitting here, getting passed over again and again, because everyone's always trying to find the perfect one. Nobody will buy this one."

Beca presses her lips together and takes a deep breath through her nose. "OK, so, what you're saying is you want to buy this tree in order to save it from going through the chipper on Christmas Eve?"

"Sort of," Chloe says. "I mean, it didn't choose to be cut down and brought here to be rejected over and over, but here it is, and it deserves to be loved, too, don't you think?"

Beca thinks it's a tree and trees don't have feelings, and even if they did, all these ones are dead and aren't feeling anything anymore. Then again, Beca thinks lugging a dead tree into the living room and hanging shiny things on it is a hell of a lot of work just to make something to look at for a few weeks, and then a lot _more_ work to take the shiny things off of it and drag it out of the house to wherever the hell one takes a used Christmas tree.

But Chloe thinks it would be just _the best thing ever_ if they had a tree in the Bella house, so it doesn't matter that Beca thinks the whole thing is kind of stupid. She'll drag the damn thing all the way there herself if it'll make Chloe do that joyful bounce and grin thing.

Beca tells herself for the thousandth time she's lucky Chloe's her best friend, and while it sucks that Chloe is out of her league, at least there is movie night snuggling on the couch and late night chats in diner booths and the occasional chance, like now, to do something she knows will make Chloe squeal with glee. It's not quite enough; it's great and she's thankful for it, but it's not quite what she wants, and she feels greedy and guilty about that.

It'll have to do, though, because this is as close as she'll get, so she drags a lot attendant over to the tree, hands him some cash, and supervises while he ties the tree to the top of her car.

She feels a bit self conscious about driving around with a tree strapped to the roof of her car, but Chloe won't stop smiling, so she sucks it up and focuses on taking the turns gently so as not to dislodge the damned thing.

* * *

As it turns out, and thankfully at that, Beca doesn't have to drag the tree into the house herself. CR and Amy do it instead, carrying it easily between them and shoving the trunk into the stand. Half the Bellas are in class, but the rest gather around to watch as CR cuts away the netting.

There is some anticipation in the air during this process, but once the branches are free it turns into a kind of awkward silence. Chloe gazes at the tree adoringly, Beca scratches her nose, and everyone else just kind of stands there waiting for someone else to speak.

It's Amy, of course, who finally does. "Well, I've seen uglier trees," she says. "Although, not many."

"It's not ugly," Chloe says indignantly. "It's just a little crooked."

"And short," Amy says. "Aaaand a bit shabby."

Chloe looks like she might cry. Beca seriously can't bear that shit, so she reaches out and rests her hand on Chloe's upper arm while fixing Amy with her very best glare.

"It's not terribly unlike you, actually," Amy says, pointing to Beca, then the tree, then Beca again.

Beca rolls her eyes once before turning her head a bit to look at Chloe, whose eyes still seem far too wet.

"Crooked is fine," Stacie says. "This one time I was with this guy and his-"

"Nobody wants to hear the rest of that sentence," Beca says firmly, waving her free hand in Stacie's general direction. "I didn't see any of you volunteering to go get a tree, so none of you get to have an opinion. This is your fucking tree, you will hang shiny things on it and you will love and treasure it like your firstborn child. Got it?"

"I once spent five months in a tree without coming down at all," Lily whispers.

"That's the spirit," Beca says. She squeezes Chloe's arm gently and gets a smile in return. "I'll be in my room."

As she starts up the stairs, she hears Amy ask, "Shall we name it?"

* * *

Confident that both Amy and Chloe will be busy for quite some time, Beca takes the opportunity of having some privacy to do some Christmas wrapping. It doesn't take long; it was quickly decided during a recent Bellas practice that it wasn't practical that each girl get a gift for every Bella, so they chose the Secret Santa route.

Beca thinks Secret Santa kind of sucks due the to level of anxiety caused by wondering whose name she'll pull out of the hat, but when it was her turn she pulled out a slip that read 'Fat Amy' and calmed down immediately because aside from Chloe she knows Amy better than any of the others.

Beca also thought that doing this prior to Thanksgiving was absolutely fucking ludicrous, but it turns out there's a somewhat lengthy wait for post from Australia, so it worked out in her favor. It was easy to get an email address for Amy's mom because Amy's laptop isn't password protected, and Amy's mom was more than happy to fill a box with her daughter's favorite snacks and a big ass jar of Vegemite and drop it in the mail.

That shit was kind of expensive once she paid for shipping, but Beca is sick of listening to Amy go on about how Cheetos just aren't as good as Twisties because they don't have a bacon flavor and also just because. She's also kind of hoping to get to try a bite of a Violet Crumble, but she's not going to hold her breath.

She tears the brown shipping paper off the box, checks to make sure there isn't anything weird mixed in with the snacks, and rewraps it with green paper covered in reindeer. Done.

Afterwards, she parks herself in front of her laptop and works on Chloe's gift. She thinks Chloe would appreciate a thumb drive full of mixes, and that receiving such a thing might result in her squealing and hugging Beca tightly, which Beca can pretend to be annoyed by while inwardly swooning over. She's pretty sure that's more than a little pathetic, but it is what it is, and the truth is that hugs from Chloe are the most wonderfully painful things in Beca's world.

She'll give Chloe the thumb drive alone, she thinks; perhaps before or after the Christmas party. She's reasonably certain no good could possibly come of letting the other Bellas know she singled Chloe out of everyone to give a special, 'handmade' gift to. She just hopes the gesture, combined with the private giving of it, doesn't give Chloe any ideas.

Beca is completely, one hundred percent certain she would die from humiliation if Chloe found out about her feelings. She's embarrassed just thinking about it. She's perfectly ashamed of herself for having the audacity to even _imagine_ what it would be like if she were allowed to kiss someone like Chloe. Chloe is beautiful, kind, accepting, generous and not half as dumb as she acts. She's sunlight and rainbows and joy and cheer, and Beca knows she can never even try to learn how to deserve something like that. It makes her chest hurt.

She blinks the tears from her eyes and shakes her head to try and clear it. She's got over a dozen new mixes ready to go, and has only a few more she needs to finish, so she forces herself to focus and get her shit together. She might not be worthy of Chloe, but she can give Chloe a worthy gift. One that says 'obviously I put a lot of time and effort into making this perfect for you because you deserve nothing less.'

But, like, not _too_ obviously, of course.

* * *

The tree, once covered in shiny balls and twinkling lights, isn't completely awful, Beca decides. It's kind of pretty, and she feels confident that since she bought it and drove it home that when the time comes to get rid of it she'll be able to throw up her hands and declare that she did her part already.

But she's looked at it for a whole half a minute now, and she figures that's quite enough. She can smell coffee in the kitchen and so she heads that way, passing Stacie in the doorway. She's more than a little taken aback when Stacie grabs a fistful of her sweatshirt, yanks her forward, and lays a loud smack of a kiss on her cheek.

"The fuck, Conrad?" she sputters, nearly falling in her attempt to back away as quickly as she possibly can.

Stacie chuckles lightly as she removes her hand from Beca's shirt and uses it to point toward the top of the door frame which, as it turns out, is now sporting a fat bunch of mistletoe. Then she smirks and goes off on her merry way.

Beca can hear laughter from the kitchen and steps in to find Chloe and Jessica sitting side by side at the island.

"I feel like someone ought to have warned me about that," Beca says as she pulls a mug from the cabinet and fills it with coffee. "I mean what if my fight or flight instinct had gone toward fight and not flight?"

"Oh, I'm not sure you could reach up high enough to hit her in the face," Chloe says. "And you'd just bounce right off her boobs, so."

"You're a ridiculous person, Beale," Beca says as Jessica starts to laugh all over again, no doubt entertaining a vivid image of Beca's fist rebounding off Stacie's chest, possibly right back into her own face.

It _is_ kind of funny, but Beca isn't about to let anyone know she thinks that, so she purses her lips and stares at the two girls flatly for a moment. Then she climbs onto a stool across from them and helps herself to the second half of Chloe's bagel.

"I am so glad winter break starts tomorrow," Jessica says. "You guys done with finals?"

"Last one was yesterday," Chloe says, shoving her fists in the air triumphantly. "So my break has already started."

"Me, too," Beca adds. "You?"

"I have my last one in like an hour, so I gotta go," Jessica says.

"Good luck," Beca says, offering a fist bump as Jessica walks by.

"You'll totes ace it," Chloe calls after her. "So, Beca, did you check out the tree?"

"I did."

"And?"

"You guys did a nice job," Beca admits. "Whose idea was it to stand it on top of that crate?"

"Mine," Chloe says. "We need space under it for all the presents."

"Good plan."

"I know, I'm a genius," Chloe says with a wink, and Beca can't help the corners of her mouth pulling up so she takes a big bite of bagel to hide how easily Chloe gets to her. The redhead just smiles softly and brings her coffee to her lips, watching Beca over the top of her bright yellow mug.

"Speaking of presents," Beca says after swallowing the bagel and taking a big gulp of coffee in an attempt dislodge the lump of nervousness she can feel gathering in her throat. Now's the perfect time, she thinks; they're alone and the topic of gifts came up without her having to bring it up herself. It's super casual and she has to just do it right now before she has time to overthink it.

Like _right fucking now_ , because she can feel her cheeks heating up a bit. She digs in the pocket of her hoodie and closes her hand around the thumb drive, takes a breath she hopes isn't too obviously deep and steadying, and slides the thing across the surface of the island where it bounces off Chloe's plate and spins to a stop a few inches away. "Here. Merry Christmas."

The bow of the green ribbon Beca had tied around it is a bit crumpled, and it looks kind of small and pitiful now that it's laying there out in the open. She's very nearly regretting the whole thing until Chloe snatches it up with both hands and clutches it against her chest like she's afraid Beca might change her mind.

"Are these mixes?" Chloe squeals, her eyes wide and bright and fixed on Beca. "For _me_?"

"Yeah, I mean, yeah," Beca mumbles. "You're my best friend, and I know you like hearing them first, so. I mean you won't be hearing those first, I mean no one else has heard them but no one else will, they're just for you."

Chloe's around the island in a flash, grabbing Beca's shoulders and turning her a bit so she can capture her in a tight, lingering hug. "Oh, I love it," she says against Beca's neck. "I love it _so much_ , Becs, thank you!"

Beca slides her arms around Chloe's back and chuckles. "Don't thank me until you've heard them, Beale," she says. "You might not even like them."

"Oh, I'll like them," Chloe says. She straightens up and fixes Beca with a wide enough grin it almost makes up for the fact that they aren't touching anymore. "I always like your stuff, you're amazing." She leans forward and pecks Beca's temple before skipping away. "I'll be in my room!"

Beca watches her go, resting her head on her hand and her elbow on the countertop, waiting for her heart rate to slow down.

* * *

"Sliced almonds or whole almonds?" Stacie asks with an eyebrow raised and a bag in each hand.

"Sliced," Chloe answers. "One bag ought to do it." Stacie tosses a bag at Beca, who doesn't catch it and put it in the cart so much as she watches it bounce off her hands and land on top on the bags of flour and sugar.

"Crushed it," she says quietly.

"Fat Amy is rubbing off on you," Stacie says in a singsong voice, draping an arm across Beca's shoulders and squeezing a bit.

"Trying to drive here, Conrad," Beca huffs as she pushes the cart down the aisle after Chloe. "How much more shit do we need?"

"Three cartons of eggs," Chloe replies.

"What about red and green sprinkles?" Stacie asks.

"Ooooh, yeah, we need those, too," Chloe says. "We'll have to go back to the baking aisle."

"We'll take the cart over and get the eggs while you go back for the sprinkles," Stacie says. "The faster we get Beca out of here, the less likely she is to kill someone."

As if on cue, an old woman turns the corner too closely and bumps her cart against Beca's as she goes by. "Sorry, sweetie," she says. Beca smiles tightly and keeps moving, eager to finish up and get the hell out of what she can only assume is a preview of purgatory: the fucking supermarket in the middle of goddamn Christmas cookie season.

"This is why I go the grocery store at 3 AM," she says to herself, making a beeline for the coolers of eggs.

"She said three, right?" Stacie asks.

"Yep."

Beca's glad Stacie is putting the eggs in the cart, because she's opening each carton first to ensure none of the eggs are broken and Beca knows she wouldn't have thought to do so.

"So, can I ask you a question?" Stacie asks.

"You just did."

"Yeah, but I mean," Stacie glances around quickly before continuing. "Can I ask you a kind of a personal question?"

Beca side-eyes her. "Sure, but I reserve the right not to answer."

"Fair," Stacie agrees. "So my question is: have you met Chloe under the mistletoe yet?"

Beca's eyes go wide and her face turns pink, and she sputters out, " _Dude_ , no, of course not."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean, why not? That's-why would I-I don't-"

"Look, Beca," Stacie says gently. "We're pretty tight, right?"

"Well, yeah, sure," Beca acknowledges. She can see Chloe now, about four aisles away and heading toward them. She feels trapped and rather wishes she could just sink through the floor and disappear.

Stacie sees Choe coming as well. "I'll make this quick. I can see your toner from down the street. I won't say anything to anyone, don't worry, but I really think you ought to do something about it."

"I don't even-"

"Please, sweetie, don't bullshit me. I think you have a shot, honestly, so cowboy the fuck up. And let me know if you need help."

"Um," Beca says, because she stunned and embarrassed and Chloe is nearly upon them by now. "Thanks?"

"You're welcome," Stacie says cheerfully, and pinches Beca's cheek. Beca swats her hand away and scowls.

"You bitches are too precious," Chloe states upon her arrival. "Let's pay for all this so we can go home and start baking."

"Yeah cookie baking day!" Stacie yells, thrusting her hands up in the air.

Beca's got the cart halfway to the front of the store by that time. She cannot get the fuck out of there fast enough. At the end of the aisle, she has to swerve to avoid running over a loose, apparently feral child, and winds up ramming her cart straight into one being pushed by a middle aged guy in a tracksuit.

"Sorry," she mutters, maneuvering her way into the nearest checkout line. She can hear Stacie and Chloe laughing from behind her. "How is this even my life?" she wonders quietly as she leans her elbows on the cart and cradles her face in her hands.

* * *

Cookie baking doesn't go too terribly badly. There's plenty of eggnog courtesy of their shopping trip, and it's got plenty of rum in it courtesy of Fat Amy. Apparently one of her boyfriends works at a liquor store.

There's also nonstop Christmas music and, of course, enthusiastic singing along. There's no chance Beca admits that any of this clichéd shit is fun, even if maybe it is a little, so she refuses to sing along until Fat Amy threatens to hold her down so that Stacie can cover her in flour.

She doesn't miss the way Chloe looks up from where she's rolling out dough to flash a small, indulgent smile and a quick wink. Beca rolls her eyes, but she smiles, too. She knows Chloe's seeing right through her; knows that Chloe knows she doesn't actually hate any of this, isn't too cool for it at all.

Beca can feel her whole body heat up as she wonders just how much Chloe can see, just how transparent she is. She feels a hot, sharp jolt of fear as it occurs to her that Chloe might very well know _exactly_ how Beca feels about her. That Chloe might know and that she's just too kind to call her out, or is hoping that if she pretends it's not there that it'll eventually go away. Like Beca's been trying, and spectacularly failing, to do.

And Beca suddenly feels very exposed, like she just walked naked into the kitchen where everyone is busy trying really hard to pretend it's not happening. And she starts to wonder if _everyone_ knows, if _everyone_ can see how helplessly smitten with Chloe she is. After all, Stacie picked up on it.

Finally, on top of all that, Beca feels stupid. Stupid that it's only just now occurred to her that maybe she hasn't been that successful at hiding her feelings; that maybe she hasn't been fooling anyone at all, and Chloe isn't _ignorant_ of Beca's feelings so much as she is _tolerant_ of them. That maybe Chloe feels sorry for her.

But then Beca looks up from where she's been closely studying her eggnog, and Chloe's looking at her and smiling and singing, and she realizes Chloe _can't_ know. Because if Chloe knew the kinds of thoughts Beca was having about her, she wouldn't be looking at her with such playful affection. If Chloe knew, she'd stop holding her hand when they walked together and she'd stop leaning into her when they sat side by side. She'd stop sitting beside her altogether, maybe.

If Chloe knew, she'd be uncomfortable around Beca. She wouldn't be looking up across the island like she is right now, pulling a face and singing 'All I Want for Christmas is You' with her messed up vocal chords so Beca has to stop singing in order to laugh her ass off.

If Chloe knew, she'd definitely pull back instead of closing her eyes and leaning forward a little when Beca reaches out to brush flour off the side of her nose, so everything's OK. Everything's OK, and nobody knows except for maybe Stacie, and Beca can deal with that later.

* * *

A massive tray full of fresh cookies on the coffee table and a very pleasant buzz are enough to coax Beca onto the huge sectional to watch _Love Actually_ with all the Bellas.

It also doesn't hurt that Chloe does a sort of flying roll over the back of the couch in order to secure the corner spot for herself and Beca, who acquiesces immediately when Chloe tugs her down to settle right up against her side.

While they wait for Stacie to get the movie started, Chloe wraps an arm around Beca's shoulders and whispers in her ear. "I listened to all the mixes you gave me."

Beca nods, because while she wants to ask Chloe if she liked them, she's afraid that if she opens her mouth she'll say something fantastically stupid like 'I used a bunch of songs that make me think of you.'

"I loved them all," Chloe says, still whispering. "It's the best gift anyone's ever given me. Not only are the mixes aca-mazing, but I know how much time and effort it takes to make them and it really means a lot that you did that for me."

"Don't get all sappy on me, Beale," Beca says, plastering a smirk on her face and poking a finger into Chloe's ribs.

Chloe just giggles, squeezes her a bit with the arm still wrapped around her, and kisses her on the temple. Beca tingles, and burns, and resolves for the millionth time that if this is all she'll get, she'll take it.

At this point, the combination of agony and contentment Beca feels when pressed up against Chloe is not only familiar, but kind of comforting.

She falls asleep on Chloe's shoulder half an hour into the film.

* * *

Beca wakes up in the dark, and for a minute she can't figure out where she is. She vaguely recalls possibly being half awake at some point in the night when someone was shoving her, telling her to move, and calling her 'the absolute worst,' but it's super fuzzy and she's not sure it was real.

What she is sure of is that she's _really_ hot and she _really_ has to pee, and there's something laying across her waist. And she's clutching something against her chest which, when she picks it up and squints at it, turns out to be a hand. Chloe's hand, actually, which means that's Chloe's arm draped over her body. Which means Chloe is spooning her.

 _That_ is the absolute worst, because it's the absolute best.

Beca groans quietly as she slides out from under Chloe's arm and onto the floor. She lays there a moment, looking at the hand that's now dangling off the edge of the couch, but she really has to pee so she drags herself up and into the bathroom.

Once her bladder is empty, she spends a minute staring at herself in the mirror. She looks like shit. Her makeup is smeared, her hair is all kinds of fucked up, and she certainly has that hollow-eyed hangover look.

She also _feels_ like shit, so she climbs the stairs to her room and strips out of her jeans and plaid shirt. She pulls on a pair of shorts and a green 'Property of Barden University' T-shirt that she 'accidentally' stole from Chloe (which she feels is only fair since Chloe is always stealing her things, like the food off her plate or the breath from her lungs), notes that her alarm clock reads 4 AM, and burrows under the covers on her tiny bed. She misses Chloe already, which is just absurd and embarrassing, but she'll be damned if she's going to go back down there to snuggle back up to her without the excuse of being half drunk and/or half asleep.

She'd like to preserve a shred of dignity if at all possible.

* * *

When Beca finally wakes up again, the first thing her muddled brain consciously registers is that she's hungover. Her mouth is dry and while she's never eaten shit, she's pretty sure it would leave a taste in her mouth just like the one she has now.

Also her head hurts. Like a motherfucker.

She rolls over slowly and tries to spread some saliva around her mouth with her tongue while she looks at her clock. It's a little bit past noon and she's got to be at the station by two for her shift, which means she'll actually have to haul her pathetic carcass out of bed pretty soon so she can shower and eat and clothe herself. Maybe not in that order.

She groans and squeezes her eyes shut for a minute, and when she opens them again she notices a bottle of lemon lime Gatorade (her favorite) on her bedside table. When she heaves herself up onto her elbow and reaches for it, she sees two pills sitting on top of a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. She pops the pills, chugs half the bottle, and leans back against her headboard to read the note.

 _Becs - I'll be working at the coffee shop til 6. Stop in on your way to the station so I can see your little face! - Chloe_

If she had the energy, Beca would be ashamed of how warm and fuzzy that stupid note makes her feel, but she doesn't. Instead she smiles too widely, slips the page into the drawer where she keeps every stupid Chloe note, and heads for the shower.

* * *

After stopping by the coffee shop and trading a promise to play three songs of Chloe's choice over the air before 6 PM for a large coffee and a bacon egg and cheese on a croissant, Beca manages to arrive at the station at 1:58. She trades fist and elbow bumps with Marco as he leaves the booth and she enters it, then settles down in front of the console to queue up a few tracks so she can eat without interruption.

She should've known better. She's only eaten half of her sandwich when her phone lights up, letting her know she has a text.

 **Stacie: Hey little shit! Have you thought about what I said yesterday?**

 **Beca: You must be joking.**

 **Stacie: I saw you two sleeping on the couch. Looked cozy.**

 **Beca: Doesn't mean anything.**

 **Stacie: I disagree.**

 **Beca: If I take a request will you drop it?**

 **Stacie: Yeah, my request is that you sack up and make a move.**

 **Beca: I hate you.**

 **Stacie: Love you too, sweetie! See you at the party later!**

Could be worse. If it had been Fat Amy who had sussed out Beca's toner, she'd have more than likely called her out in front of Chloe and the entirety of the Bellas without a second thought about it. Could be better, too-most of the rest of them probably wouldn't harass her like Stacie has and will no doubt continue to do, but at least she can trust Stacie. Stacie said she'd keep her mouth shut, and Beca has no doubt that she will do just that. She can brush off the irritating suggestions, as long as her secret is safe.

* * *

The house is empty when she gets home, because it's after ten and the Aca-Christmas party at the Treble house has been going on for at least an hour. She marches straight the kitchen for a Red Bull and a handful of sugar cookies, which she eats on the couch while she stares at the Christmas tree.

All the presents at under it by now; the gift exchange brunch is scheduled for the next morning. In addition to the traditional balls and lights, it's decked out with a bunch of handmade foil-wrapped cardboard ornaments-musical notes, of course. It's festive and, oddly enough, not completely over the top.

It's still stunted and crooked, but the decorations make it look fuller, and overall it's quite nice. Beca watches the lights twinkle for a few minutes, and thinks about how Chloe _chose_ that tree out of all the trees on the lot.

She thinks about how Chloe never puts anyone down. How even though she's prettier and kinder and just better than basically everyone else is the world, she never acts like it. How she's generous with her time and her affection and her forgiveness.

There's a part of Beca that knows those are all things that make Chloe too good for her, but there's also a part that knows those are also all the reasons that Stacie is right. Beca _should_ go for it, she _should_ say something, because Chloe will absolutely not judge her or hold it against her. And even though Beca's still pretty confident that Chloe won't respond by saying that she feels the same way, she knows deep down that she can't go on like this. She knows that if she gets it out there and actually hears the rejection, then at least she'll know for sure and she can get started with moving on.

There's also the tiny sliver of hope that maybe-just maybe-Chloe likes Beca back.

So Beca climbs the stairs and changes into the purple plaid shirt Chloe likes, touches up her makeup, and lets her hair down. Then she heads for the Treble house.

* * *

She doesn't even pretend not to be looking around for Chloe when she arrives, and quickly spots her on the dance floor with Fat Amy and a few other Bellas. Her heart is pounding in her chest and her resolve is already crumbling, so she heads for a keg and fills a cup with beer in hopes that a little liquid courage is all she needs.

She spots Stacie leaning against the tiki bar, chatting up some guy, and Beca thinks maybe a pep talk will also help, so she makes a beeline for the long legged Bella.

Stacie sees her coming and dismisses the guy with a smile and a pat on the chest, and traps Beca in a tight hug as soon as she comes in range.

"Can't breathe, Stace," Beca says, trying to work a hand in between their bodies to push her off.

"Nonsense," Stacie says as she releases her grip. "You can't speak if you can't breathe." Then she boops Beca's nose and giggles, the cup in her hand obviously not her first of the evening.

"So, um," Beca says, "I was thinking, you know, um, maybe-"

"Are you trying to tell me you're going to tell Chloe how you feel?" Stacie asks, arching an eyebrow and staring intently. "Because I'm thinking you'll need to drink more. If you can't even say it to me, I don't know how you're going to say it to her."

"That's helpful, thank you."

"Oh, sweetie, don't be sad," Stacie says, rubbing a hand up and down Beca's arm. "I'm not making fun of you, I'm trying to help. Just settle down, take a few deep breaths, and then go over there and shove your tongue in her mouth."

Beca can't help but laugh, even though she really wants to scowl. "Yeah, not doing that, but thanks for the advice."

"No problem," Stacie says. "But you should consider it. It might be easier than forming complete sentences."

She's got a point, but Beca's one hundred percent sure she doesn't have the guts to do such a thing.

"Don't overthink it, little shit," Stacie goes on. "I really do think she's into you."

Beca sighs and turns her gaze to the poolside dance floor, where Chloe is happily shaking her hips with an arm around Fat Amy. She can't help but smile, watching her, witnessing the complete joy and abandon in Chloe's face.

The smile drops off Beca's face when she sees Chloe's ex-boyfriend Tom squeeze his way into the crowd, tap Chloe on the shoulder, and hand her a gift bag.

Beca's heart turns to lead and drops straight through her stomach and onto the ground at her feet when Chloe's face lights up and she turns to throw her arms around his neck, and Beca doesn't have to be in earshot to know that she's squealing.

When Chloe kisses his cheek, Beca says, "Well that's that," sets her cup on the tiki bar, and walks away. She walks around the pool and across the lawn, shoves her way through the bushes, and breaks into a jog toward the Bella house. She kind of thinks it would be best if she got inside before the tears start falling, and she can feel them coming, burning behind her frantically blinking lids.

She's panting when she finally gets inside and slams the door closed behind her, and before she can run up the stairs the twinkling lights on the tree catch her eye. She stops and turns her head toward it, fighting the nearly overwhelming urge to tear that fucker down and stomp on it.

Because Chloe loves that goddamn crooked, stunted tree, and it gave Beca hope that Chloe could maybe love crooked, stunted Beca, which she clearly does _not_ since she's obviously getting back together with motherfucking douchetastic _Tom_.

"You tricked me, you asshole," she says, and the tree doesn't say anything back because it's basically just an inanimate object and Beca actually can't believe she just spoke to it. It's just that she's feeling a bit overwhelmed, and every time she squeezes her eyes shut against the threatening tears, she sees the two of them with their arms around each other. And maybe she should be thankful she didn't actually have to hear Chloe say 'no' to her, but she's not sure that would have been worse.

All she knows is that it hurts. She feels stupid and embarrassed and she hurts and she hates that tree with a blind irrational fury.

* * *

She doesn't know how long she stands there, staring at that shitty tree, but she's startled by the sound of the door opening. She figures it must be Stacie coming to check on her, and she doesn't want to fucking talk about it, so she turns toward the stairs.

She's stopped by the voice that says, "Beca?" because it's not Stacie's voice. It's Chloe's, and Beca freezes because this is exactly _not_ what she needs right now. "I thought I'd see you at the party."

"I stopped by, but I was tired, so. Why aren't you there?" Beca asks. She's squeezing her right hand with her left and clenching her jaw shut when it's not open to speak, every single iota of her willpower focused on not losing her shit.

"I was looking for you," Chloe says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Are you OK?"

"Shouldn't you be, like, making out with Tom or something?" Beca regrets it the moment it leaves her mouth; it's shitty and rude and totally unfair, but she couldn't help herself.

Chloe's eyebrows knit together, and she looks uncertain. "Tom? We broke up months ago."

"Yeah, but he brought you a present, and-"

She's cut off by Chloe's giggle, and she's locked in place by her complete inability to decide whether to fight or fly, because it _hurts_ and now Chloe is _laughing_ at her.

"You've got the wrong idea, Becs," Chloe says, taking a step closer. She's wearing that expression again: the one that's equal parts 'you're kind of adorable' and 'you're kind of a dumb shit.' She's got the gift bag in her left hand, and she reaches out with her right.

Beca takes her hand because she can't not, and it's ridiculous how even given the current state of affairs, Chloe's hand in hers makes Beca feel calm and warm.

"OK, so, Tom and I are still friends, and I ordered you a gift from the shop where he works. Since he worked there today, he picked it up and brought it to the party for me."

Beca's eyes are locked onto floor, because she feels stupid and ridiculous, and because there's something weird in Chloe's voice. She sounds almost nervous, and she's never nervous with Beca, and it's freaking Beca out.

"Oh," she says. "Sorry, I just assumed-there was hugging and I thought-I'm an idiot, sorry."

"You're not an idiot," Chloe says.

Beca thinks maybe she's actually the biggest idiot ever, the queen of all the idiots maybe, and for more reasons than just her mistake about Tom, but she swallows all of that and says, "You didn't have to give me something just because I gave you something."

"I know, and I didn't," Chloe says. "I ordered it last week, it just took a while."

"Oh. OK."

"So, um," Chloe says, and there it is again-the nervousness. She drops Beca's hand and brings bag up between them.

Beca takes it, risking a quick glance at Chloe's face, sees the tightness in her eyes and the uncertainty in her smile, and directs her eyes to the bag. She holds it in both hands, studying the snowy North Pole scene printed on it, until Chloe says, "Go ahead. Open it."

Beca breathes in deeply before reaching into the bag and closing her hand around something soft, and when she pulls it out she sees that it's a T-shirt in Barden green. She drops the bag on the floor and uses both hands to unfold the shirt to reveal a print very much like Chloe's 'Property of Barden University' T-shirt, only this one reads 'Property of Chloe Beale.'

"I, uh," Beca starts, but she honestly has not clue one about how to go on. She just stares at the shirt suspended between her hands.

"I can see that you're confused," Chloe says. "Can you do me a favor and just hold still for a sec?"

"Sure," Beca replies, lifting her eyes to Chloe's and realizing the redhead had moved much closer while she hadn't been looking, and now Beca kind of can't breathe.

"OK," Chloe says, taking the shirt out of Beca's hands and laying it over the back of the couch.

When she turns back, she puts her hands on either side of Beca's face.

Then she puts her lips on Beca's lips.

It takes a few seconds for Beca's brain to catch up, but once it does she realizes that Chloe fucking Beale is fucking _kissing her_ , and it is the best thing in the _history_ of the fucking _world_. So she kisses back, and rests her hands on Chloe's hips, and pulls her closer, and thinks that maybe she'll just keep on doing these things until she runs out of oxygen and dies.

She doesn't, though. She kisses Chloe until they're both clutching at each other and they have to break apart to suck in air.

"So, will you be mine?" Chloe asks, pressing her forehead against Beca's.

"Isn't that a Valentine's day thing?"

"Shut up," Chloe says. "I didn't want to wait until February."

"I think," Beca says, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I kind of always have been. Yours, I mean."

"Good," Chloe says, flashing a smile wide enough that Beca can see the edges of it past her own nose. "Because I think I've always been yours, too."

"Best Christmas ever," Beca says.

"Totes," Chloe says.

Then she presses her lips against Beca's again, and Beca thinks maybe she owes that little ugly tree an apology.


End file.
